


Smothering The Flames

by WinterAssets



Series: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Rutting, sequel to fixing the licking flames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 19:11:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5345396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterAssets/pseuds/WinterAssets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There’s a certain unrest that always fills him when it gets close to that time. It wouldn’t be bad if he had presented as an alpha for his entire life, if he just had a normal damn rut like every other alpha on the planet. Instead, it’s something torn between a rut and a heat, and he wishes that his chemicals in his body would just make up their damn mind already.</i>
</p><p>OR</p><p>The sequel where Bucky goes into rut and his body acts like that of both an alpha and an omega and he just won't admit that he needs a knot. Steve tries to help his fever go down and all it causes is a panic attack. Includes Bucky's desperate need to be in the middle in a three way cuddle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smothering The Flames

Bucky  _really_  hates when he can feel his rut coming on.

Smoke unfurls into the air as he slowly lets it out from his mouth, a cigarette clenched firmly between his human fingers. His head aches along with the rest of the body, and there’s this uncomfortable pit in his stomach that he just  _knows_  goes along with him getting close to his rut. He feels too warm and too cold all at the same time, and he rubs at his eyes with his metal hand, careful not to put too much pressure as he lets out a sigh. He pulls another long drag off of his cigarette before he lets the smoke curl out into the city air of Brooklyn, something in his body clenching as he stares out at the polluted sky.

There’s a certain unrest that always fills him when it gets close to  _that_  time. It wouldn’t be bad if he had presented as an alpha for his entire life, if he just had a  _normal_  damn rut like every other alpha on the planet. Instead, it’s something torn between a rut and a heat, and he wishes that his chemicals in his body would just  _make up their damn mind_  already.

Ever since he had presented, his body had always presented as an alpha but his hormones had always borderlined on an omega. His scent changed almost daily and there was no way around it; he had been on suppressants for a while when he had joined the army, but even that didn’t take off the itch. It wasn’t until Hydra got their hands on him, made this new body and made him fast and strong, that he had presented as an alpha. There was something in his hormones now, something dominant and silent, needing to own everything around him before the world had a chance to pick them out of  a crowd.

But there were still things that he just  _craved_  and that he was never ready to act on or tell anyone about, things that only a certain person behind him, plenty of sleep in his mind, even remotely knew about. There were times when Bucky just got itchy, when Bucky needed something more than what his alpha body could give him, and that was a  _knot_. The omega that he had been borderlining on always practically cried out for it, and while he didn’t produce slick or go through everything like an omega, it was an urge that was hard to ignore. He knows; he’s tried to ignore it constantly. It was less when he was with Hydra, but he never really had a chance to go through a rut. There it was get your mission done and go back into cryo. That was all there was to it.

But now, now he had been without it for a long, long time, and while he had had minor ruts here and there, he  _knows_  this one is going to be a bitch. It’s the first real one he’s had ever since he left Hydra, and that part makes him nervous. He doesn’t know what’ll happen or how he’ll react, but he’s damn scared that he’s going to do some damage. That’s the last thing he wants to do, and for a minute he wishes that he wasn’t this super soldier alpha. He wanted to be the borderliner that he had always been, because then he had known what to expect.

Now he had no clue, but an uncomfortable cramping sensation was slipping into his bottom stomach, forcing him to wince as he let out a slow sigh. He glances down at his spent cigarette and smears the ashes out on the balcony rail, then throws it over and watches it disappear into the night. Steve’ll have his head for it, but right now it works to take the edge off.

Gingerly, he slips back through the glass door and shuts it, locking it behind him and double checking for good measure. He draws the curtains back around the frames and allows himself the silence that greets him. There’s muffled traffic from the New York streets, but besides that, it’s a quiet static that Bucky yearns for, especially when his mind won’t silence itself.

He turns around, smiling slightly at the way that you fit perfectly into his spot, head tucked against the pillow. There’s an empty space between you and Steve, one that’s calling him, and he pulls in a careful breath before he slips his slippers off and leaves them at the door. He heads towards the bed, careful footsteps, and slips into the warm and inviting spot. It’s not often that he gets to be middle, and it makes something in him twist happily as he settles in. You let out a soft noise in your sleep but don’t bother to move. Bucky merely laughs and draws the blankets back up, curling his knees up to his chest as he turns to face Steve.

There’s worry lines etched into his features as if he can sense something’s wrong, a scent changing, and Bucky lets out a shaky breath. He presses forward and lets his head press against Steve’s chest, his skin warm and inviting through the thin night shirt he wore. The alpha above him stirs a little and nuzzles his nose near Bucky’s scent gland in his neck and he knows that he’s screwed. Steve says nothing though, just wraps his arm tightly around his shoulders in a silent promise.

You roll over in your sleep and nuzzle at the back of Bucky’s neck, scenting him and letting your arm rest around his waist. It’s all too comforting and for a minute Bucky allows himself to think that he’ll be okay, that he’ll get through his.

He lets the warmth from both of your body’s lull him into a safe security, his knees slowly dropping and knocking against Steve’s as he lets himself drift back off.

* * *

When Bucky wakes up, he  _knows_  he’s screwed.

He’s sweating and his body feels entirely too warm, but too cold at the same time. He presses the blankets tighter to his chest and then tries to tug them higher to hide his face in them. His nose is freezing and his entire body is aching, and there’s this unmistakable pain running through his body. The curtains are still drawn closed on the doors that lead out, and it makes something in his stomach twist. He can sense that darkness without even opening his eyes, but he forces them open anyway. He’s alone in the room, and he feels something in him nearly  _break_.

Steve’s spot is cold; Steve almost always gets up first and is out jogging with Sam before anyone else even thinks of waking up. But your spot is cold too, and Bucky can’t tell what time it is, and it makes his heart race faster in his chest. He doesn’t like waking up alone, hasn’t since Hydra and realizing that he  _could_  wake up. It’s unsettling in the alpha’s veins and he has to bury his face back into the blanket from letting out a wounded cry.

Alphas don’t do that. Alphas are strong and domineering, but  _damn it_ , Bucky’s still  _recovering_  from a traumatic situation and he just can’t  _help_  it.

He wants to get up, wants to make his way down the stairs and see if there’s the promise of some food or just him over sleeping. But his body won’t let him, and even as he tries to scent the air, he can’t smell anything. He feels like the world is closing in on him along with the walls, and he’s close to crying before he even realizes what he’s doing. He curls up in a ball, his breath coming in shallow pants as he lets the panic flood him, and he squeezes his eyes shut. He lets out a cry that he didn’t know he actually had in him, and hides himself away from the world.

It doesn’t take long for the door to open; Steve’s footsteps easily falling into time like they had so many times before as he rushes over to the bed. Bucky can smell the alpha pouring off of him but he can’t bring himself out of the cave he’s made; it’s full of pity and self-loathing, and he doubts that Steve’s alpha scent can calm that with a ten foot pole.

Either way, he feels the bed dip and Steve’s hand finds his back through the covers, the patch warm and sticky as his hand rests there. He can smell the worry in the air, but Steve doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just lets his thumb rub softly against Bucky’s back and hopes to change his scent. He can’t though, and Bucky just  _trembles_  because it feels so  _good_  but so  _wrong_  at the same time and he just  _can’t do this_.

“Buck, Bucky hey…” Steve’s voice is soft but commanding, and Bucky can only bring himself to peer out from under the safety of the covers. His hair sticks to his forehead and everything’s hazy, but someone is here with him and he’s not  _alone_  and that factor is what starts to soothe the panic in his chest. Steve smiles slightly and brushes the hair away, concern in his eyes as he breathes in deep. “You’re in rut, huh? I should probably uh, give you some space then.”

Bucky’s metal hand shoots out before he can stop it, gripping onto Steve’s wrist fast and hard. The super soldier winces at the hold, and Bucky can hear the unnerving whirring of his gears as he tries to breathe deep. “Don’t.  _Don’t_!”

Steve’s eyes widen a bit and he carefully pries himself away on the sixth try of trying to do so, and Bucky looks so wounded that he can feel something in his heart break and shift. He’s not just your alpha; he looks over Bucky too and seeing him like this is starting to eat at him. He hasn’t seen a rut this bad with Bucky since before the war, since he had begged Steve to just  _do it_  and put him  _out of his misery_. “I thought you were presenting as a full alpha now?”

“I don’t know, okay?!” Bucky lets out a soft wail of pain and hides his face in the pillow, wincing as he feels just how hard he is against his boxers. He shuts his eyes tightly and begs incoherently and doesn’t know what he’s saying, and Steve’s putting his hand over his mouth because  _Bucky just shut the hell up for two minutes_. Bucky just whimpers and licks at his skin, and Steve can feel that shiver go down his spine as Bucky’s hormones spike in the darkness of the room.

“I’ll get her, okay? She’s worried sick after hearing you cry like that but she didn’t want to come up in case you were panicking. She knows you like space in those first few minutes,” Steve’s pulling away and Bucky feels more wounded than he ever has before, but he lets him go. It’s selfish and Bucky shouldn’t want it anyway, so he just buries his face in the pillow and tries to breathe deep, the scent of himself making his body ache and hurt. He smells absolutely  _pathetic_  and that strikes him to his core and makes him feel the most useless that he’s felt in a long time.

He doesn’t even hear Steve go; he doesn’t even try to. Instead, he spends the next few antagonizing minutes wondering if he can push this new body up to some weird speed and power through a rut and use the balcony as an escape. But he doesn’t get a chance to find out or act on it, because he hears the soft sound of a door closing and your scent slips around him in a soft cloud, making his breath hitch in his chest.

“You okay love?” You murmur softly, carefully sitting down on the edge of the bed. Worry is in your tone and Bucky feels horrible for it because  _damn it he is the alpha_  but he can’t even voice that. He merely scoots closer and thinks for a second before lifting up the blanket in an invitation. You take it without second thought and press up against him, Bucky’s arm coming around you and thanking whoever that you weren’t a prissy omega and didn’t care about the sweat starting to sink into your clothes.

You reach up and brush your fingers through his hair, a soft look on your features but worry there too and Bucky just mewls and presses up against your touch. It shocks you for a moment and you’re not sure what to do, but you attempt to recover as fast as you can so that he doesn’t see it. “What can I do?”

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a long moment, his head pounding and his heart aching. His mind wants this, wants this so bad, but nothing feels right. He swallows hard and buries his face in your hand and just  _needs_  but he’s not sure  _what_. His mind knows though, and all it keeps saying over and over again is  _knot_  and it’s scaring the shit out of him. Breathing deep through his nose, he nuzzles into your touch again before he allows his bleary eyes to look at you.

“Get Steve.” It’s not a command but it’s not a question either, and you’re moving before Bucky can even blink. Pulling in a careful breath, you look back at him once more, afraid to leave him but knowing that he needs this more, and pad down the stairs to retrieve the alpha that’s waiting in the living room.

* * *

Bucky can barely breathe as he presses his lower back into the sink. His head’s aching and he knows he has a fever, one that’s probably pretty severe, but he doesn’t want to cave and go to a doctor. This is just a rut and he’ll get through it. He stares at the bathtub longingly for a few moments before he tries to move again and lets out a howl of pain, his arm going around to grip at his stomach. The room spins and he’s dizzy, his feet faltering for a moment before two strong hands steady him and he practically shivers at the feeling of Steve’s hands on him.

“What are you doing?” There’s nothing but concern in the alphas voice and Bucky can’t say anything; he just leans up into Steve’s touch, nuzzling his nose into the alpha’s neck. He lets out a slow, shaky breath, and Steve lets out a soft worried hum as he feels just how warm Bucky’s skin is. “Buck, Buck come on…”

Steve keeps an arm around his waist and leads him closer to the tub, reaching over and turning on the cold water. He lets it fill the tub as he strokes at Bucky’s hair, feeling the damp stricken strands against his fingers. Bucky’s barely conscious and he’s worrying; his mother’s training kicking in as he carefully sets Bucky up straight and starts to remove his clothes. Bucky lets out a soft whimper and he feels stupid but he just raises his arms up and practically begs for him to remove the clothing. Steve gives him a small, reassuring smile, and tugs his clothes free before lowering him into the tub.

The second the cold water hits his skin, Bucky lets out a moan of approval as his eyes slip closed. Steve glances at him, worried, running his fingers through his hair carefully as he lets out a slow breath. The other alpha is reeling in a rut from hell, and Steve doesn’t know what to do, but his mother used to do this when he had bad fevers that he couldn’t break. So the same principle had to apply here, right?

Bucky’s head lulls until his cheek is pressed against the cold ceramic of the tub’s edge, his eyes shut tightly and his breathing shallow. His body’s starting to ache less, but now the cold atmosphere is starting to set in and he doesn’t know how long he can take it for. Another hand starts to stroke his hair and his eyes snap open, a small smile on his face as you watch him. You give him a small smile back, but it’s tight and you just want to make sure that he’s okay. Bucky doesn’t feel okay in the least, but he pulls in a careful breath.

Everything feels tight and overwhelming, and Bucky pulls in a sharp breath. Suddenly he realizes the cold surrounding him, a vice on his heart as his eyes grow wider. Panic settles into his chest as the cold realization settles in, and he lets out a sharp cry. His mind isn’t that of Bucky’s; it’s that of the Winter Soldier’s, and whimpers fall quickly from his lips.

He hasn’t done his mission right; his mission has gotten away and now Pierce is angry with him and Rumlow’s going to lock him away because  _you were born an asset and that’s all you’ll ever be_. The cold is only going to take a matter of seconds but it’s  _so fucking cold_  and all Bucky wants to do is pound on the glass and scream that he can do it, that he’s  _sorry_  that he didn’t complete his mission – he just can’t focus _right now and if they just give him a minute he can_. But they don’t hear any of it; they just shut the chamber and crank up the cryo and he’s screaming internally as his entire body freezes and everything goes black.

He thrashes in the water and you and Steve both flinch, Steve’s eyes wide and unsure of what to do. You reach over and pull the plug on the bath tub, watching the cold water drain and leaving a shivering soldier in its wake, Bucky’s eyes unfocused as he swallows hard.

Carefully, you begin to turn the knobs to the faucet once more, making sure the water is pleasantly warm before you push the plug back in. It starts to pool around Bucky’s feet and the warmth seems to shock him into a small amount of sobriety and he looks at you, unsure and ashamed, and you feel your stomach clench. You take one look at Steve and Steve looks away, his jaw clenched but he moves out of the room, allowing you the peace and quiet you need to deal with Bucky.

Bucky bites down on his lip and looks at you, watching as you stand up and run your fingers through your hair for a moment. You pull it up in a messy ponytail before shooting Bucky a soft look. His rut clouded brain is watching you with interest but those eyes are still an echoing reminder of who he was, and it makes your stomach twist with uneasiness. You haven’t been around him through a true episode before, but you’re determined to help push this past like he’s helped you in the past.

Carefully, you began to peel your shirt over your head, the scent of his sweat and hormones still lingering on the fabric. Bucky smiles and watches you, the smile lopsided and not reaching his eyes, but that’s okay with you; you know this is going to get better for him soon, so you just breathe deep and wait for the good to happen. Pulling in a sharp breath through his nose as your fingers work at your shorts before pulling them down your legs. The bathtub is filling slowly, a soft trickle, just the way you had intended it to be. Bucky had already been shocked by the cold; the last thing you wanted was to shock him again with the warmth. He didn’t seem to complain, the lifeless blues focused on you as he bites down on his lip and waits for you to do something,  _anything_ , that’ll bring him back to himself.

He whispers your name softly and you look at him, smiling lightly as you carefully step into the tub. Bucky smiles slightly at you and then helps you slowly kneel down onto the ceramic. You wince as they bear into the hard surface, but you push it away as you settle your weight against Bucky’s waist. Carefully leaning forward, you give Bucky the chance to pull away, but he doesn’t. Instead he meets you half way, his mouth moving along yours lovingly before he slips his tongue into your mouth, a soft noise escaping his lips. With each stroke of his tongue you can feel him coming down, coming back into who he is, and your fingers lightly brush away the wet strands that are sticking to his cheeks. He laughs into the kiss and lets his head tilt for a better angle as his hand runs down your back.

Fingers dancing along your spine, you pull in a sharp breath and arch into his touch. His pheromones are growing stronger again and you feel his hips rock up against yours once more. A soft sigh escapes both of your lips and you gingerly run your fingers along his jaw, your eyes locking on his before you press a kiss to his forehead. “You going to let me help with your rut?”

He hums in contentment for a moment before he kisses you deeper and lets his hormones take over his body. His hips roll restlessly into yours and his fingers grip at your ass, trying to pull you tighter to him. You let him, knowing that it’s always better to let Bucky take what he wants. He starts to tug your panties down for a moment before settling for moving them to the slide, carefully slipping into you and shuddering as your hips rest flush against his.

Swallowing thickly, you press your kiss hot and firm to his, letting his hips roll and thrust, your own moving back on your own accord as you’re desperate for some form of release as well. You can feel the water rising to your ribs now and you break the contact to lean back and turn the knobs off, gripping onto the sides of the tub as Bucky begins to thrust fast and hard at the new angle. You let out a loud gasp and close your eyes tightly, feeling him grind against every spot that makes you go crazy.

And it all feels right and perfect and Bucky’s gasping,  _pleading_  with something as he arches his back and thrusts in hard once more, feeling himself tense up but the orgasm not washing over him as you hit your own breaking point. You carefully lean up as he tugs impatiently at your waist, and you know that look of frustration on his face. You press a kiss to his forehead and breathe deep, whispering softly to him that it’s okay, you’ll get him through this.

* * *

Bucky finds himself clad in a pair of boxers and stretched out uncomfortably on the bed a half an hour later. His eyes are unseeing as he stares up at the ceiling, a soft groan leaving his lips. His body is still burning everywhere and he doesn’t even know why he couldn’t release or knot or do anything that he’d normally do. It makes his head ache and he’s not sure he wants to even be an alpha anymore.

There’s cold air blowing in from the patio doors and he wants to yell out to Steve to shut it, that he’s already still traumatized and his hair is still drying along with his skin. He doesn’t though; it’s a free country and this is Steve’s apartment as much as it is his, so he doesn’t intrude. He knows the super soldier; he’ll be back in in a second anyway, running his fingers through his hair and letting out a frustrated sigh because  _Bucky isn’t okay_  and for once, Steve doesn’t know how to just fix it.

Like clockwork, Steve’s walking in a few seconds later and Bucky gives him a small smile as he sits on the edge of the bed. Blue eyes soften as Steve reaches out, carding his fingers through his hair as he lets out a soft sigh, giving it a gentle tug to get Bucky’s attention that’s quickly fading. “What am I going to do with you? We have to break your rut. You’re worse than you ever been and that has to  _hurt_ , Buck.” Steve fidgets for a minute and then bites down on his lip. “We have to tell her you need a knot.”

“And ruin all of this? Yeah, no thanks. I’ll deal with the blue balls.” Bucky lets out a snort and he crosses his arms before he attempts to turn on his side. Steve reaches out and doesn’t let him, and Bucky lets out an even more frustrated sigh because he just  _wants this over with already_. “Steve. No. It’s bad enough that she has two alphas who are always vying for her attention. She doesn’t need to think she’s not the only omega in the household. What the hell does that say about the alpha that I am, anyway?”

Steve chews at his lip for a second before he lets out a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. It’s darker now that the sun isn’t coming out as much because it’s winter, and it brings a small smile to Bucky’s face because Steve is  _still_  that punk that he’s always been. “She has toys, you know. One’s that have an inflatable knot. She used to use them when I was on missions and she needed to get off.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow at Steve, questioning him, but he’s afraid to open his mouth and say more. His cock twitches against his stomach and his mouth goes dry, and he knows his pheromones are kicking up again. Steve smirks a bit, and Bucky knows that he’s been caught. He lets out a slow breath through his nose and tries to count to ten, but it doesn’t work. His body is imagining it now and his hips rock up against their own accord, the heel of his palm pressing hard into him.

Steve smirks and gets up from the bed, and Bucky only has time to let out a quiet  _mother fucker_  before Steve’s returning with you and a small box in your hand. Bucky raises an eyebrow because  _that’s_  what all the hype is about? And he wants to scoff but feels rude so he just lays there quietly, watching the two of you interact and whisper with one another, his eyes narrowing slightly as his keen assassin senses kick in.

Then Steve’s straddling him and bringing their lips together and Bucky feels like he’s going to  _explode_ because it feels so nice. He lets out a moan and lets the younger take over the kiss, massaging their tongues together as your fingers tug down his boxers. Your mouth slips around the tip of his cock and he moans loudly, swearing under his breath as he tries to reign his emotions in.

Your mouth is dipping lower, sucking softly at his knot and feeling the weight of it against your tongue. You  _know_  Bucky needs this, know he needs to just breathe and let go of everything, but getting Bucky out his head space is harder than trying to get Steve to admit to using Netflix. Your mouth sucks harder and your tongue runs along the swell, feeling Bucky keen underneath you as his fingers grip hard at the bed. A slight smile slips onto your features as much as it can, and you let off of the knot with a soft pop before moving your mouth back up his cock. You run your tongue along the vein and then suck underneath the ridge of the tip, right where he loves it the most, and Bucky throws his head back, arching his back and crying out because  _fuck yes_.

He’s so preoccupied with your mouth doing things to his cock that he never thought it could do to notice Steve carefully slipping behind him and working him open. He only notices when he feels the familiar pressure and he lets out a loud moan, rocking his hips back and then up again to force you to take more of his cock in like  _the sweet little omega you are_. He’s ready in no time and you pull off of his cock with a wet pop, slipping the toy free and slicking it up before you slowly push it into him.

Bucky’s moaning loud and his hips are bucking relentlessly, begging to get it deeper, begging for you to  _knot him please alpha please_  and a shiver goes down your spine at being called an alpha. You swallow thickly and start to thrust the toy, letting the vibrations kick up as your free hand wraps around his cock once more. You’re slipping it up hard and fast, tightening your fingers at the tip and then squeezing at his knot and Bucky’s voice is going hoarse from crying out so much. It’s all too _amazing_  and he squeezes at the toy inside of him, eyes shutting tightly as he begs for it and you can feel his cock starting to pulse in your hand.

Swallowing hard, you hit the button, giving Bucky two more sharp thrusts before the knot inflates and Bucky cries out, cumming hard over your hand and his stomach, his body shaking and his knot blown. He’s breathing hard, his eyes screwed shut tightly as he makes little thrusts up into your hand before going still, shivering at the feeling of the knot tugging at his sensitive skin.

Smiling, you lightly stroke his hair and kiss his forehead, whispering softly how well he did. Steve has his head in his lap and he’s stroking his hair, smiling and pushing the sweat damp locks away as the air stills slightly. Bucky’s not as feverish and he’s not crying out, begging for more, and his knot’s finally going down and his cock is going soft.

Glancing up at Steve you give him a smile and lean over to steal a quick kiss, one that tastes of both him and Bucky and you, making something in your chest tighten. Bucky lets out a soft mewl and nudges at your wrist, desperate to get your attention as you laugh. You lean down and kiss his forehead, smiling as he presses up into your touch.

“You’re such a needy little omega,” you whispers softly, smiling as you peck his lips and he whines full heartedly at the fact that you called him that. Steve carefully wipes his stomach clean with a warm wash cloth while you ease the toy from him, and Bucky lets out a soft, pleased noise as his eyes slip shut.

Steve curls up at his side and pulls him close, scenting the male that’s no longer in rut. Bucky lets out a pleased noise and tilts his neck in an offering, and you let out a laugh, smacking his hip softly as you lay on his opposite side.

“Hey! That’s my alpha, don’t you be tempting him.” Bucky lets out a sleepy laugh and burrows down into the blankets, feeling both Steve’s and your arms wrap around him, pulling him into a safe zone that he never thought he’d be able to touch.

He lets his eyes slip closed, breathing in your scents softly as you and Steve talk. His head feels fuzzy but pleased, and he lets out a slow, content breath as he burrows deeper into the warmth and safety.

Maybe being an alpha in rut wasn’t so bad after all, not when he had two people willing to take care of him.


End file.
